


Cry

by Engineer104



Series: Royal Flush - a Prompt Fill Collection [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 23:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16842544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Sam Holt's safe recovery unsettles something in Allura.Shiro comforts her.





	Cry

**Author's Note:**

> another old fic (definitely canon divergent from season four)!! and look, a ship other than plance!!
> 
> originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/167545398663/aaaaand-reacting-to-the-other-one-crying-about)

Shiro had never seen Matt and Pidge happier.

Even in the excitement of takeoff from Earth and their eventual arrival to Kerberos (how long ago that now seemed), Matt Holt never smiled so widely as when he and his father reunited.

Sam Holt clung to his two children with surprising strength for one so frail, looking just as happy and as relieved as them. Shiro’s own chest filled with warmth at the sight, but he resisted the urge to approach and to take his own reunion with his mission commander – a man who had been, or who _was_ , something of a father to him. Let Sam enjoy his son and daughter first, before Shiro, who felt he must be as unfamiliar as a stranger after all the time that passed, spoiled it.

Keith hovered nearby, uncertain and still dressed in the suit that marked him as a member of the Blade of Marmora. His eyes flicked from the Holts to Shiro, then beyond him down the hall, towards the Castle’s other occupants. He approached Shiro.

“I know Kolivan may not be happy,” Shiro said, sensing Keith’s need for reassurance, “but Matt and Pidge are, Keith. You did well.” He smiled at him. “ _Really_ well.”

Keith brightened a little. “I know,” he agreed, glancing back towards where Pidge chattered excitedly about something to Sam. “But…where’s everyone else?”

Shiro sighed. “Lance and Hunk were here for a bit,” he explained, “before you got back, and Princess Allura…” He sighed, looking over his shoulder. “She came but excused herself.” He wasn’t sure, since Allura ducked her head so quickly, but the smile she wore when she welcomed Sam fell before she was out of sight, the pink markings on her face paling like they did whenever she was distressed in some way. Shiro could imagine what might have upset her, but…

Before he could second-guess himself, Shiro touched Keith’s arm. “I’m going to find the princess,” he said. “You all right here?”

When Keith nodded, apparently understanding, Shiro left in the direction Allura had, though he soon found himself at a loss to guess where she went. The bridge, to throw herself into some battle plan? Her bedroom, for privacy – implying that she wanted no intrusion? The Blue Lion’s hangar, for solace and comfort?

(Solace and comfort that Shiro himself could provide, if only she sought it. If only she _knew_ to seek it.)

In the end, Shiro found Allura in the most obvious place: the chamber that once housed King Alfor’s AI.

She crouched in the center near the pedestal, folded in on herself and with her shoulders shaking, her back to the entrance. But she glanced up as Shiro walked in, and rapidly looked away.

“Princess,” Shiro said softly.

“I’m all right, Shiro,” she said, though the waver in her voice belied her words. Her shoulders stilled, her soft sniffling quieted, and if he wasn’t so worried he would be impressed with how quickly her composure returned.

He almost felt guilty about disturbing her. _Almost_.

“Are you sure this is the best place to cry?” Shiro asked. He knelt near her, maintaining a respectful distance, but still close enough that, if he wanted or needed to, he could reach out and touch her shoulder.

“No one else comes here,” Allura told him. There was no reprimand in her tone, despite the implicit one in her words.

And Shiro’s eyes widened in surprise at the _other_ implication. “You…come here often?” He involuntarily cringed, since it sounded too much like one of Lance’s unsuccessful pickup lines for comfort, but Allura didn’t seem to notice.

She didn’t reply. Instead she wiped her eyes and face, though she was careful to keep the curtain of her hair in the way. Which Shiro thought foolish, since he _knew_ she cried, he _knew_ she was distraught; so why hide it?

The same reason _he_ hid his grief and trauma, he realized. Because so long as there were bigger demons to fight, the smaller, more personal ones were forced to wait.

Shiro gritted his teeth and sat down, crossing his legs and positioning himself so he faced Allura, so that if she decided to look up, she would see him before she saw the pedestal where her father’s specter once stood.

Finally, she spoke, “I should be happy for Pidge and for her brother.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being jealous,” Shiro told her.

“There is!” Allura said, glancing up and shocking him with her vehemence. But then her eyes widened and she bowed her head again.

Shiro sat with her in silence, broken only by the sound of her muffled sobs, renewed after her outburst. He clenched his hands into fists, feeling useless, his chest aching with empathy. He slid closer and, guided by instinct and no small amount of his own selfishness, rested his cybernetic palm on her fist.

To his surprise, her hand relaxed, fingers uncurling and wrapping around his, nails biting into his palm in what would’ve been _painful_ if he had neurons rather than wires. Still, Allura must’ve thought she hurt him, for she eased her grip on his hand.

But she didn’t let go.

Shiro tugged on Allura’s hand, inviting her closer, and she accepted, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. With his free hand, he stroked her hair, and within a few minutes – a few doboshes – her sobs stilled.

“I lost my father twice,” Allura said, voice much steadier now. “And my people, my _home_ …” She shuddered, clinging to his arm.

“I know,” Shiro said. He relished the feeling of her soft hair between his fingers, despite the circumstances.

(He wished he could hold her in happier times, with happier words exchanged between them.)

“And I wouldn’t wish the same on anyone,” she added. She rubbed her forehead and laughed mirthlessly. “Not even Zarkon, not anymore.”

“I know.”

Allura shifted, and Shiro’s hand stilled as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I know you seek to console me, Shiro, but…” She frowned deeply, her hands sliding down his cybernetic arm to cradle his hand. “Quiznak, I hate feeling this way. Jealous, helpless, _bitter_ …” She looked down, at their joined hands. “Do you wonder if Pidge and her family are all safe in the other reality?”

Shiro blinked, surprised at the question; the others – not Allura, for it must’ve been too painful for her to recount – told him of it. He sighed, but smiled, nudging Allura’s chin so she would look up at him again. “No safer than they are in this one,” he admitted, “if _my_ alternate self is any indication.”

Allura returned his smile, beginning to look comforted. “Yes, that sounds right.” She dropped her head onto his shoulder again, and her fingers intertwined with his. “Thank you, Shiro, for listening, and for understanding.”

Shiro turned his head, just enough that his lips brushed the crown of her head. “Anytime, Princess.”


End file.
